


Turning Back the Bäckahästen

by LooNEY_DAC



Series: LooNEY_DAC's SSSS AUs [12]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Gen, Näkki Lalli Hotakainen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 19:02:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8726521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LooNEY_DAC/pseuds/LooNEY_DAC





	

Sigrun and Mikkel looked at Lalli’s sleeping form in concern.

“He has some kind of fever that I’ve never seen before. None of my anti-febrile medications have worked on it, and it seems to be getting worse.”

“Have you told Tuuri yet?”

“No; I set her and Reynir to working on the books again. She wouldn’t have believed it was serious; it hasn’t been but a few hours since he got back.”

“Well, what about--” Sigrun gestured at Emil, lying comatose in his own bunk.

“He was here when I tried to treat Lalli, and got so worked up that I had to sedate him.”

*

Emil slowly became aware that he was being watched. Usually, he would go on full alert, as it meant that a Vätte was stalking him, but in this dream, Emil was surprisingly calm. When he turned to see what was watching him, he saw a young and obviously uninfected fox staring back at him.

“So you’re Emil, huh?” That the fox spoke still didn’t alarm Emil; this was commonplace enough for dreams.

“I am. And who might you be, O Vociferous Fox?”

The fox turned its head away coyly. “Oh, I’m just a friend of Lalli’s, which is why I’m here. He’s in Trouble.”

Less than a blink later, Emil had the fox pinned against the tree, his arm resting on its neck. The questions flew from him thick and fast. “Where is he? What kind of trouble is he in? How do I get him out of it?”

The fox gargled out, “I... could... answer... better... if... you... weren’t... choking... me.”

Emil considered this, not without suspicion. After a few tense heartbeats, he relaxed his arm, but only just.

“OK, so Lalli was tricked by a bog-spirit that you’d call a _näck_ into becoming one of them. The _näck_ told Lalli that if he didn’t, the rest of you would be killed horribly. It was very... _persuasive.”_

“How do I get Lalli back?” Emil growled when the fox trailed off.

“Well, he won’t be a _näck_ fully until he sings his first song while playing his special kantele, but if someone steals a _näck’s_ kantele, the _näck_ can’t just take it back, so...”

*  
The _näck_ slipped through the swamps with fiendish ease, exulting in the power coursing through it: the heartbeat of the fens. A sweet song was stirring in its heart, and, like all songs, it needed to be aired, so the _näck_ sped toward its hidden kantele. The instrument it sought was gone, however, puzzling the _näck_ no end, until it heard a slow chord fill the air.

Another chord strummed through the glade, and this time the _näck_ saw its origin. Resting calmly against the mossy trunk of an old, old tree was Emil, the kantele in his lap, his fingers idly drawing along the strings in an unusually pleasant manner.

Of course it was Emil. Tuuri cared; Sigrun dared; Mikkel did beware; Reynir had good hair; but the fool Swede was the only one of the team that had already flung himself into danger for Lalli’s sake, and always would.

“How did you find me?” The speech was jarringly guttural against the music in its soul. When Emil just kept sitting there, unconcerned, anger suddenly filled the half-familiar voice. Had all the suffering and sacrifice been for nothing, after all? “You fool Swede! Are you truly too stupid or stubborn to realize that I left to protect you all?”

All the sound and fury _näck_ -Lalli could dredge up left Emil unmoved. “Yes,” he said calmly. “Yes, I am too stupid or too stubborn, or both, to abandon my friend when he needs me the most. Yes, I am too stupid or too stubborn, or both, to let my friend push me away in that same hour. Yes, I am too stupid or too stubborn, or both, to let my friend thus be eaten while I still draw breath. And no, I’m not leaving.”

“I’ll lure you into the bog!” Lalli- _näck_ threatened. It/he knew the threat was an empty one, and it/he suspected Emil knew it, too.

“I can swim.” Emil’s voice was still as calm as though he were ordering lunch.

“I’ll scream at it first!” This time, even a stranger could have heard the reluctance in his/its voice.

“I have some iron to toss in it, then.” Emil watched the play of emotions across Lalli’s face and plowed forward. “How I found you doesn’t matter. I’m here, and I’m not leaving without you--the _real_ you, Lalli Hotakainen, the human.”

The sound of his name hurt, like ripping the scab from an unhealed wound. The power ebbed from him as the swamp reclaimed its own, pulling its essence out from the warp of his body and soul, leaving him a mere human again, panting heavily as he leaned against the nearest tree.

Emil leapt to his feet. “Don’t you _dare_ let yourself die on me, Lalli! Don’t you _dare!”_ For the first time, real animation colored his voice.

*

Lalli opened his eyes. The familiar walls of the Felinopede surrounded his comfy little nest. There was no hint of a swamp in sight or sound or even smell.

Emil was looking at him worriedly from his bunk, Tuuri standing beside him as he babbled his Swedish nonsense. Finally, his cousin turned to him and asked, “Lalli, have you been dream-walking again? Emil keeps going on and on about how he just had a nightmare where he had to save you from becoming what he calls a _näck_ \--you know, a _näkki.”_ Oh, boy. “Tell me what’s been going on!”

Lalli sighed. “It’s a long and foolish story, Tuuri...”


End file.
